I Married My Misery
by Daygoner
Summary: House loved his wife. But he also loved his misery. HouseCam, implied ChaseCam. Oneshot.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own House. But I do watch it religiously.

_**A.N. **I don't usually write House/Cam fics, so don't flame me for this first attempt. It's very metaphorical – you have been warned. House/Cam, implied Chase/Cam. R & R._

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**I Married My Misery**

Doctor Gregory House was no stranger to misery. It greeted him at least once a day, whether in the form of his aching leg, a patient demanding attention in the clinic, or getting up and realising that he had no Vicodin left. His marriage to misery had granted him neither love nor happiness. But he refused to get a divorce. Or annulment. It was just the way his life was, and he accepted it.

So when he married Doctor Allison Cameron, things seemed to change. He felt the love and the happiness that had been absent from his first marriage, and for once in his life, he was content. She loved him, he loved her. So what if it was bigamy? He owed his misery nothing at all, whereas it owed him his life. Thank God that was included in the prenup.

Divorcing his misery was easier than he thought. His past marriage was soon forgotten once Allison moved in with him and he prepared for a whole new life ahead. She wanted a family; he wanted to wait. Oh, how he had looked forward to these marital spats.

His misery visited him a few times. When he had an argument with his present wife, maybe, or when his leg gave a particularly painful twinge – his misery would always drop in for a healthy chat. He'd only grit his teeth and bear it though. Ex-wives were bitches to deal with.

But when Allison announced that she was pregnant, House's misery decided to make herself scarce. True, he hadn't wanted a family so soon, but if that was what his wife wanted, if that was what it took to make her happy, he'd support her all the way. He loved her, after all.

He thought this as he gazed down into his son's bright clear eyes. A baby's eyes. Innocent, pure, uncorrupted. Babies didn't lie, not like their grown-up parents. Babies just loved and trusted, and could be loved and trusted back. House loved his son; of that, he was sure.

As his son grew, the surety of his love for the boy was never questioned. Yet, his affairs with his misery grew ever more frequent and she now demanded even more attention than when he had first formed a relationship with her. Allison noticed – how could she not? She was his loving, devoted wife after all. But even she had her own affairs to deal with, and he rarely saw her at work these days – there was always a job that needed seeing to, a patient that needed treating. If Foreman noticed any change in her behaviour, he just explained it away with a shrug. House wondered what Chase would have said; the young Australian seemed to disappear under the excuse of extra clinic duty or something similar whenever he had to be alone in the same room as his boss. Or his boss's wife. They would hardly stand for a minute in each other's presence, rushing off on yet another errand if they were caught in such a situation. House thought nothing of it.

His misery was with him always, now. Every time he looked into his son's smiling face, he'd convince himself that his misery was lying, trying to trick him to get back with her again. And then he'd pull his son onto his knee and lightly pass fingers through the boy's fine downy hair. It was so soft, unnaturally so, even for baby hair. And blond. His son's fine crop of hair was a beautiful golden hue, framing his scalp in little bursts of sunlight.

His son would laugh at this sort of unwarranted attention, blinking his huge eyes in delight. House would level the child's gaze, blue irises meeting equally blue counterparts. No, not through the eyes of a baby – he couldn't tell. Children who were so young didn't lie, anyway. And proof of the innocence was in the eyes. They were too pure. Like his mother's had been. Pure blue.

And his father's? Well, both his parents had blue eyes. House ran a hand through his short brown hair, and knew that his son wasn't fair from his side of the family – they all had darker hair. And Allison? As far as he'd known her, she'd had dark hair also. Brown, not blond. Perhaps his wife's mother or father had blond hair?

His misery thought differently. She had always made a point to contradict him, but this time, he suspected that her words held some measure of truth in them. What other explanation could there be? He loved his son, and he loved his wife – but sometimes, that wasn't enough. He was also addicted to his misery, and his petty affairs with her had done nothing but distance him further from his wife. He didn't blame her. Not really. Being married to him would never be considered a walk in the park. Their relationship was complex – Allison may have craved something more exciting, younger and… blond. Foreign, even?

House set his son down. The baby would grow up into someone handsome. Who wouldn't, with a face like that? And, House couldn't help thinking, he'd look just like his father.

Letting out a breathy sigh of resignation, House turned and limped away, arm in arm with his first love. His misery. Her arms wrapped tenderly around him and this time, he welcomed her familiar embrace.

Doctor Gregory House was no stranger to misery. He had married his misery, divorced his misery and then remarried his misery.

"I know just how to celebrate," he muttered, fishing in his pockets. He shook something out into his hand and held the single white pill to the ceiling. "Till death do us part," he intoned, knocking back the Vicodin.

It didn't lessen his misery.

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_**A.N. **Thanks for reading… review?_

**Daygoner**


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